Living evil
by Vegetaswriter
Summary: Disturbing, evil, etc. Read disclaimer inside. This is a Halloween fic. RELIGIOUS THEMED!
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, yay! I'm officially back once again… man life sucks, it keeps me away from this an awful lot… maybe I should take it as a sign, well too bad I don't believe in it. This is a horror fic, only going to be one more chapter and that's it. It's for Halloween XD. **

**Disclaimer- This is defiantly not for those whom are religious, because well, it's V.W; just leave it at that, gore, violence, etc. The usual for me. So those whom are still going to read this, enjoy :D **

**Chapter 1 **

How does one explain their findings to those whom could never truly understand the darkest part of ones soul without tasting the sensations upon your tongue? Yes indeed - taste sensation, not a typo, not a miscalculation of wording. Taste sensation; electric and sharp, if one must explain such a aspect, then the only words that could hold an ounce of weight for such a description would be a strong mint washed down by an acidic sweet drink on a cold winters day – even then it pales by comparison, a poor substitute.

Hunger, oh how I hunger, a simple outstretched hand would fill my desires, yet such a fleet is so terribly unattainable, like smoke – he is like smoke, cast in a never yielding shade of grey, moves like liquid in your hand, never to remain. Oh I hunger. Not mine to touch, not mine to hold, not mine to keep; it whispers in my muddled brain like a hail Mary, over and over, not mine to keep. Yet when those dark sinister eyes weigh upon me, I feel mocking hope - perhaps, maybe…

Blood oozes from his parted plump lips, fire his scenic backdrop, the blacken sky clashing artfully against the alabaster of his skin, making him shine out amongst the gore, his dark eyes trimmed with an eerie electric glow of scarlet, the perfect satanic killer, created by the beautiful mass of envisioned nightmares of thousands of lunatics, and wicked mortals. A child born of sick intentions was he, the pits of Hell weeps once his feet touches the earth - scorching the ground as he walks, the Devil himself quivers as the son of the purest chuckles. Nothing is ever safe from his gaze…

I've had heard of the saying 'he is sin incarnate' before countless times, and to use such a whimsical saying to him burns the tongue, such a cliché, to better describe such wickedness is better with details – to look upon him with openness would condemn your very soul, to gaze into his eyes for a lengthy period sealed your fate for eternity; forever locked within the recess of his mind, living in a never-ending torture, to die over and over in millions of different ways, tormented and poked until you go mad and feed his deplorable mind, giving his imagination a new way to torment his new victims.

He has no allies; neither man nor woman ever could stand behind him, his malevolent aura takes all space. Nothing can stand near the magnificence of his presents, as he nears, the scent of certain death taints your lips, and fear grips you tighter than any orgasm ever could. His touch icy cold, sharp against the skin like a fine honed blade, his breath - the oddest of things, is sweet, like spun sugar, his voice brutal and raspy; a song of darkness.

He is the most enchanting creature ever to walk on any dimension, on any sort of plain, charming, bewitching, his movements glide, graceful and majestic. His sheer beauty leaves you momentarily forgetful to the fact he could and will destroy everything you are, take the vital part of you for his own, gulping you down greedily, gluttonously. His skin looks like shimmering silk, pale and soft to the touch, his eyes - you can drown in his deep ebony eyes; lose yourself forever in the pools of darkness. His lips looks so welcoming, supple, sweet, those tantalizing lips make you beg for a kiss goodbye before he rips out your throat.

His features are sharp and angled, as if he was created - crafted by a masterful artisan. His body was no different, sharp, angled, and lithe, with just enough muscle proportion to make him look intimidating, something not to contend with. Yet, the most unique feature of all was his glorious dark hair, distinct, never to mistake him for another, it danced and waved in the humid air like an onyx candle flame, giving him a height he did not have. He was perfection, beautiful perfection, and I hungered and wanted for far too long…

The mortals have given him so many names, all in which have become descriptions of many different creatures, Vampire, Demon, Succubus, Werewolf, upon many, many more, yet it all came from one source, the son of the purest. The son, the names mortals have attached to him is colourless in comparison to his true name, yet, there is one that he enjoys. It is not Smiling Jack, nor is it Satan - Lucifer only dreams he could inflict such terror as he – no, the name he enjoys is 'The Blood Red Sandman', the mere mention of this name keeps children up and shake under the covers of their bed, and the bravest of adults toss and turn in their bed, dreams plagued by red eyes.

The foolish of mortals ask and beg for him to rise up and smite the ones they hate, cults of delinquent teenage boys and girls, practicing false magic of 'evil' spells. They chant the song they sing for the purest.

_ Once again, there is pain, and revenge, and blood._

_ Thunder in the night, he'll make you his own._

_ Blood Red Sandman coming home again._

_ Scream all you want, music to his ears._

_ No one is safe from his deadly embrace._

If only they knew what they ask for, he is not something one can control or manipulate. He walks this realm as he chooses, comes and goes like the wind, leaving nothing but death and destruction in his wake. Foolish mortals… I wish I was as ignorant as them, as blissfully unaware of him, never to cross paths with such a disturbingly beautiful creature.

He had visited earth on many occasions, usually keeping a routine, only to rise every few hundred years to reaffirm the fear and reignite tales of evil, and each time we only watched, never to step within his path, watch, mourn and pray for the souls lost. There was no method to his madness, men, and women of all ages, nothing was ever an exception, saved, damned, or pure mortals, it had made no difference to him, blood was blood, and they all spilled the warmth of their souls on his chilly hands.

My brothers and sisters wept beside me as we watched, I felt their sorrow, and I prayed for the ones lost, yet, my eyes could never leave his image, finding myself not repulsed by him, instead intrigued in the most immoral of ways, admire him even. I've never been so disgusted by my own thoughts.

Each time he walked the plain of mortals I find myself the first to watch his madness, gazing wantonly at his method of lunacy, and completely disturbed. I detested him, I detested the fact he was 'evil' - in which he truly was - yet, the only reason why I detested it because 'we' would never ever be. I was not evil, I was not interested in killing only preserving life, allow the mortals to make their own decisions, allow them to life the lives they were given. Mortals, Humans, such a flawed creation… but they deserve to live, no matter what their lifestyle or crime may be. I believed in change, I believe in the soul, I believe in the good of mankind, I believed in the life giving light above. Still, I couldn't squash this burning desire for the son of the purest – he makes me weep.

On this day, it was no different, the water ripples as his presence nears, the heart constricts, and the fires burn. The gates seal shut, and the deep pits below wail their terror as he raises once again, the abyss no longer entertaining him, the past victims trapped in his mind no longer present, snuffed out of existence, never to return. Leaving the blackness of 'nothing' to step into the light, filled of air and sun – stretching out his toes, one would say. His fingers contorts, blunt nails elongating, sharpening; thirsty, needy they are, and the Blood Red Sandman dips the thirsty claw like nails into his mouth, trailing them over his tongue, promising them the blood it craves - my body trembled.

His body moves in strange abnormal movements, popping noises echoed in the sky of dusk, contorting, dislocating, and snapping crammed joints to loosen - flexing and stretching until each signal joint had made its significant pop. Not moving for over three hundred and seventy two years would do that. His body lifted in the air, levitating several feet from the earth below, his eyes fixated on the bustling life ahead, his grin widen into a sickening glee, the blood of millions will be spilled on this night – the city calls to him, bypassing his once playground of small towns.

I prayed to a deaf god, it was pointless, something we all learned, begging our father, our creator to stop this madness - alas he could not… and once we all truly thought about it, he placed our brother Lucifer into Hell, for speaking too freely on matters we had no say. The mortals see our brother now as the ruler of Hell and a terrifying torturer of damned souls. Yet the truth is much harder to swallow. Lucifer is just a simple little pawn, allowed sway in Hell, and given the freedom to go against god, wars so on so forth. We have a time keeping a pawn in line – God cannot do anything to the purest, nor the son of the purest.

God and the purest have their own realms to ensure and rule; neither pry into their business, none of us understand this - it's all that much easier ignoring these disturbing facts. The history of Hell and demons lost to us, only knowing they were there before we were created, there long before Lucifer's fall from grace. How did it all come to be? I'll never know, as ignorant as the mortals below us…

The screams and sonic booms of explosions floated in my head; my city, a city I come to love and adore the populace more so than others – yes even we came to favour mortals more then others – tears gathered as the café shop I frequented crumbled down, along with Mr. Grayson, and his granddaughter along with it, smothered in the debris of the old bricks Mr. Grayson placed there by hand on his own. The son of the purest laugh echoed in my brain, chilling like solid ice on bare heated skin, cold and cruel. His depravity of destruction showing, building from building it all collapsed like a house of cards as he stalked through the bustling streets of screams. His need for blood consumption lacking, instead the mosaic of mangled bodies sticking out from the cement and brick made him happy.

He paused for a moment, letting out a cackle as he heard the mummers of so many innocents huddled together in a gymnasium – in hopes they would be alright – It seems a school play was happening on this ungodly night; I could and would not allow this, I had to do something.

They sensed it, they seen the determination in my eyes, felt it in my heart, and my brothers and sisters pleaded for me not to go, begging to me, trying everything they could to make me understand – it was pointless, I knew what I was going to face, and I knew I had no chance of survival – My plummet to the earth was fast, I sped down with whatever speed I could manage, my heart hammering in my chest - I know he senses my coming.

For the first time I breathed in his scent, so foreign, unique, and tangy to the senses. The air is thick with it, kicking off from the ground I barrelled towards it, my wings tucking in, adding to my dizzy speed. The scent of desperation and terror of mortals sour and bitter, no doubt to him it's intoxicating. My heart skipped a beat or two, the son of the purest, I was going to see him in the flesh, and father forgive me; my desire thicken.

Its funny you know, to feel desire, when in fact I shouldn't, none at all. We were created without such things or the equipment that comes with that territory, father blessed that to humans, not us. Yet here I was, hungry and needy for something that I shouldn't. Was it just his presents that done this, or was it just me?

His laughter drifts in my ears, and with a final push I sped pass him, halting before the school. His laughter cuts sharply, no doubt surprised of my arrival, as he should be, he hasn't seen one of us before. I felt that chill return ten fold; I could feel his eyes crawl over the back of my body, through the stiffness I felt I turned. I have faced evil before, slew countless demons bent on over throwing Heaven, I have spoken to the Devil, and never have I felt fear – now I feel it, and it's a powerful emotion that I have no clue on what to do with such a feeling.

I've seen him countless times through a mirror of water, now there is nothing that separates us but air, and I am near speechless to be this close to him, I can feel him, feel the cold radiating from him, the chilly embrace of death hugs me from this distance. His smile widens and he leans forward looking more intently at me- God forbid- he leers.

My stomach sloshes, melted into nothing but slush, my desire rush through me, and all I wish to do is drop to my knees and beg, for what, I am unsure.

His legs move forward towards me, and I remain grounded to the earth; he grins now, the kind of grin that shows he knows everything. He only stops a arm length away from me, smoke and fire at his back, his eyes glowing, his mouth opens and I am enthralled. "What do I owe the pleasure of you're kinds appearance?"

My back straightened even though all I wish to do is crumple under that seductive voice, so dark, raspy – perfect. "I wish you to leave this city be, allow these people their lives."

His head tilts, a slip of brief confusion. "Why? Why these people? I've heard no objections over the centuries." He steps closer, my wings twitched, feeling cornered. His eyes slid over my body once again, his hands reached out and touched the feathers, smoothing the ruffle. His eyes lidded, nearly coming flush against my chest, and I wondered if he had a beating heart. "Are they important to you?"

I swallowed hard. "No more of this pointless destruction… please." My eyes blurred as a silent tear fell. I could feel the pain of those whom still breathe in the trapped buildings, wheezing for air, clinging to life.

He breathes me in, his nose touching my nape ever so lightly, as if it hadn't. His voice dips into a shadowy whisper. "You haven't answered my question… angel." His fingers trailed down the length of my arm, and my want increased with each minimal touch.

"Yes, they are very important to me… I love this city." My voice shuddered in tune with his touches, and I hear him sniff me, breathing in my want.

His grin transformed into a vicious smirk, his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Would you do anything to save them?"

The way he looks at me, I have hope, maybe, just maybe… "Yes… I'll do anything for them." He snarls suddenly, disgusted by something, did I say something wrong? Or was my need for him? He slaps me away, sending me crashing against the stone wall. I heard a cry from an unfortunate boy, no older than fourteen years of age. How did he get his hands on someone so quickly?

The boy pleads for his life, begging evil to allow him to live. I could hear the words I'm too young to die, and Vegeta just laughs at this – Yes Vegeta, that is his name, perfect isn't it? Ve-ge-ta just rolls off you're tongue like silk- 'I'm too young to die' a foolish notion and we all know this, no one is ever too young. Vegeta brings the trembling youth closer, his claw like nail hooks in the lip ring, slowly toying with the piece of metal, tugging lightly, scaring the boy half to death, he bore his teeth with a wide smile. He coos to the youth, easing the child slightly in his arm. The moment the boy relaxes he leans forward, and lightly touches his cold lips to the top of the boy's lip, the child became enthralled with the beautiful monster holding him, and to think that might have been the first kiss the boy experienced was a painful thought. His nail once again tugged the looped piercing, his eyes lidded and his lips brushed the boy's ear and his whisper carried over to me, as if I was the boy hearing every syllable he spoke. "It's dangerous to have a piercing here you know boy, it could be very problematic if it catches on something." I flinched, slowly raising, kneeling at the rumble surrounding me. My eyes snapped to attention as I heard the boy struggle and scream, Vegeta slowly pulled the ring forward, and I could hear the skin slowly split. Vegeta watched with horrid fascination as the blood bubbled and poured from the rip he was creating, he kept the struggling youth locked in his embrace, ignoring the trashing, only delighting in his sadistic nature. With a final tug, the boy's lip spilt in two, the ring settling on Vegeta's index finger. The boy's hand slapped against the wound, his eyes wide and locked on the monster's, Vegeta never removing his gaze dipped his head and licked at the blood over flowing the boy's hand.

"Stop this! Stop tormenting the child, you killed him already!" My body trembled, I have witness many gruesome deaths, either by accident or intentional, but to smell, and feel it is on such a far different scale.

Vegeta's eyes snapped over to me, his tongue still licking at the blood as a twisted smile formed on his open mouth, his canines gleamed with the youths blood. He moved with the grace I've seen over the many years, that cruel smile never leaving his lips. "No, oh no, I haven't killed him yet." He said with mock concern and care. He petted the frightened boy's head as a parent would to comfort their child. His hand slid down over the boy's chest, and he laid a gentle kiss to his victims forehead, as his hand dug in, snapping bone in its path, the gurgled screams made me look away- there was no point to try and stop him, none whatsoever.

I heard a thud and I gaze over to him once again, the youth laid against his feet, the collar of his jacket still grasped in the hand of Vegeta, making the boy look so strange, hanging limply against the monster. Once again tears welled in my eyes as I saw the gore covering Vegeta, a heart fisted in his free hand holding it still as he gorged himself in the organ, ripping piece by piece with his canines, swallowing the makeshift dinner. As the heart cools he dropped it to the ground, letting the boy's collar from his grasp as he begun his stalking towards me.

_Blood oozes from his parted plump lips, fire his scenic backdrop, the blacken sky clashing artfully against the alabaster of his skin, making him shine out amongst the gore, his dark eyes trimmed with an eerie electric glow of scarlet, the perfect satanic killer, created by the beautiful mass of envisioned nightmares of thousands of lunatics, and wicked mortals. A child born of sick intentions was he… _he is so astoundingly beautiful, and I wanted him…

"Are you still willing to do **anything** for these mortals?" His hands cup my face, his hand freezing my heated cheeks, while his eyes heated my core, burning me with hot desire, and leaving me feeling hallow, ashamed and sick because of my wants.

"Yes… anything."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The dark is cold and unrelenting, like the polar ice caps of the great north; frigid slicing through your very bones with a dull blade of malice. The only sound I hear in the claustrophobic atmosphere is my own laboured breaths, the pumping of my holy tainted blood rushing in my ears – far beyond me to know if it is due to excitement or dread – I am not bound in any form, yet I find myself rooted to a perch I cannot phantom, held tightly against nothing at all. Perhaps it be my own dishevelled mind playing tricks on me, it causes my palms to sweat and my feathers to fluff.

I see nothing, and I feel everything, and I can taste the sweetness of his breath, and smell the stench of death – pungent like a fresh carcass – I can go on for hour's mayhap even days describing the home of such an exceptional fiend, but it all would be quite redundant now wouldn't it? It would be just a rehearsal of any horror one may find, a normality I suppose – yet faced with the true happenings of evil, those stories pale in comparison – If only there was a spec of light, even hellfire would be a welcome sight oppose to this darkness, but, then again, I don't wish to leave him. Oh heavenly father, what have you done to me? What error had accrued when you created me? To want this, to want him, blasphemy, wrong –oh so very wrong- I miss him, where has the child of the purest gone?

Chilled fingers smoothed my feathers, answering my wandering question, he was here, perhaps all along, watching in this thick blackness that engulfs me, mind and soul. This was the price, a price I wanted to pay – save my city, take me- But isn't this what I always longed for? Was the payment just a stratagem to get what I truly wanted, an excuse to have those eyes gaze upon me, and those chilling bloodied fingers to touch me? Yes, I dare say it was.

He is a walking incongruous being, his touch cold yet his breath hot, his scent is of death yet his mouth smells of the sweetest candy, already I am enthralled into his wickedness. That terrifying and captivating mouth brushes faintly over my broad shoulder, fingers scraping against the armoured pads of god, searching for the latches – I could only shrug my shoulder slightly, pushing it forward, giving him access- His chuckle filled my left ear, with sharp teeth he scraped against the lobe. I wanted nothing more than to turn and hold him in a lovers embrace – unacceptable.

His guttural voice burns my ear and slithers like a snake in my soul. I could stand here like a statue and listen to him for eternity, to hear that deep raspy voice burn my very being as he spoke of horrors; his fine art.

"Angel, why do you tremble?"

I could swallow my tongue, the sting of shame fills me, I am unable to answer his question – to say such things aloud, for me, a defender of good and righteousness, tell the most evil being why I tremble… no, I cannot. He will not wait forever, and his movements show his impatient nature, sharp nails ripped away hard armour, digging in the clean flash of my chest, raking said claw like nails downwards, leaving behind tracks of crimson. In a swift movement, either be it myself or him, I'll never know, I am facing him, and all I can see is his eyes, gleaming like a beast in the night, glowing, reflecting off of the non-existent light. His nose and cheeks barley visible in this kind of darkness, his fangs gleam hungrily. I trembled again, more violently under his heated starving stare.

His mouth stretches further over his teeth, in a mocking smile – he knows, he knows my I tremble, and he is revelling in the certainty – slow and graceful like a feline he dips down, dipping his pointed tongue in the deepest slice on my chest, slowly lapping up my life force, his pupils dilate, his groan is of pure satisfaction – I nearly fell to the false flooring, my knees giving out, yet it is the strength of his gaze that keep me planted – "Curious-ier, and curious-ier Angel, you make me wonder." He nearly slides upwards, his hands sliding up and over my shoulders, his face mere inches from my own, his gaze locked onto me, he slowly swipes his tongue over his blood stained lips making me inch forward, wanting a taste. "Is all your kind similar to you, or are you just the fucked up one, hmmm? Big ol' daddy won't be happy, would he?" Yes indeed, he knew, my utter shame, the cross I'll always be damned to carry – an Archangel that lusts, pitiful.

To Vegeta it is a revelation he was glorifying in, but what wicked being wouldn't? I embodied perfection, the vengeful defender, a slayer of evil, wrack silent and immobile by a feeling I shouldn't experience for all my immortal life; lust, raw sickening lust, for an evil creature of all things – my brother Lucifer must be laughing his silly head off by now. My breath hitches the moment I felt Vegeta's hand slide to the cloth of my tunic, and ripped it clean from me, exposing my bare hips; the equipment of man not gracing my pelvis, instead a bare patch of nothing, just flat bare skin, and the child of the purest laughs at this, laughs so painstakingly hard, tears form in the corner of my eyes.

Jutting short formed chuckled escaped those cruel lips, subsiding quietly, as those eyes took on a veil of sweeten innocence's, tampered by childish curiosity – far more terrifying than his twisted smile – once again his tongue darted ever so slowly across his pinkish lips, glimpses of his pearly white teeth flashed, that particular gleam in his eyes made my body quiver. "Sweet little Angel, oh why do you cry?" That enchanting voice oozed mocked care, his hands twisting my hair from side to side in a slow sway, his lips mere millimetres from my own parched ones. "Don't be sad" He hissed lowly, speaking so lewdly, leaving me hanging on his every word, each drawled syllable engraved into my memory. "I'll give you what you want…" His lips touched the shell of my ear, and he done to most wonderful thing, he whispered to me in that magnifying voice, the masked veil of sweetness gone, drowned out by the tones of lustful mewling. "I'll give you what you…_need_…"

His head snapped back to my own, his eyes sharp and precise, holding me utterly captive. "Only if you ask… nicely, Angel." I can see the playfulness in his eyes, his energy bouncing inside him like a hardwired ball, each breath I take only excite him more, and I am amazed he is remaining as still as he was, instead of shaking like the excited pup he was – and who could truly blame him. "What do you want, Angel?" It is then I understood his words, and I couldn't speak. The questions of how dart in my muddled brain, how, how, how! How can this beautiful creature of darkness fulfill my needs, my wants and desires when two major parts of that particular playing I lack?

Plundering in the darkness, my hand lifted, and with what ever willpower I had over my body, I laid my quivering hand upon his cold shoulder, what happened next, was not what I expected. He hissed, forming into a threatening growl, his fangs bared and ominous, I felt the sting of his anger quickly, and my hand was instantly slapped away. My cry was caught in my throat, and I took a staggering step back – I didn't ask, I never told him, so there I shouldn't experience, permission is key.- instantaneously his façade of sweetness was back, the sugary smile replaced the demonic snarl, and his eyes soften looking for the world like a virtuous pure virgin of the night loving her chosen – on him it was startling – He slithered against me once again, and repeated his words once again in a slow manner, as if reciting the words for the slowest of men, well, there with him, I truly was slow.

My mind wandered for a moment, looking down at his body, half concealed in the blackness surrounding us; my ethereal sinful beauty. My answer, I gave him my answer in the most timid voice I ever stuttered; no longer the powerful being, I was a victim, a fatality to his pleasures. "You…" It was all I could say, you, I wanted you, to hold to love to _own_. Alas such a request is erroneous, be belongs to nothing and no-one, and I dare say he never will. The abyss does not own him, he owns that darkness, that perpetual blackness is his, and his alone.

His nails trail across my exposed skin, gliding over my taunt flesh, and he laughs richly, a tenor I never heard before, it was new, and it was intoxicating. "Me? And pray tell, Angel, how would you accomplish that when you don't have… the right… equipment?" A jester was he, patting against the flat area of my pelvis; his fingers scratching in a slow sensuous circle in the precise area where on any other man would be the base of his shaft. It burns me from the inside, jealously was never a trait of mine, but I felt its sickening burn. His laughter grew as his continued to torment me further with jeering comments on my lack of said 'equipment', "You're like one of those human Ken dolls. Oh it must burn you deeply." He took a wide step back, giving me back my own space, casting his form in the inky blackness, his eyes glowed more eerily. I heard him blow, felt the breath against my heated shameful cheeks, and a red glow begun to lighten the dark, creating deep shadows across his angular body. His skin bathed in the light of flames, crimson skin shone beautifully, his eyes twinkled with cruel mischief; nimble fingers toyed with tight fabric, pulling and tugging slowly, his hips swayed, and the beat of debauchery pulsed in my ears. His eyes held me, kept me from looking away, each inch slowly revealed to me, far much better than anything I've seen before, the miracle of birth looks more like the spew of an drug addicted whore compared to this sultry striking creature before me. I yearned like never before.

His chuckle sounded more of a pleased masculine giggle, his hands swept over his exposed chest, slipping minutely inside the seams of his pants, stroking, pawing, gliding; entranced and awed by such an evil creature, needy, wanting, desiring; wanting him more than life itself. I would willingly cast a hundred saints to the pits of hell just to be able to love him, such a sly wicked being. I watched his hands more fervently, watched as those sharp nails dipped into his mouth sensually, how those lips suckled the fleshy pads of his finger tips, wanting to taste those fingers, blood and all. Cruel, sick, twisted, beautiful –fucking-creature. He bares his back to me, stoking his sides, and swaying his trim hips, arching his neck back making his hair slide against the small of his back in slow wide sweeps, I will memorize every petite movement, each tangy sweet scent, everything. As his hands travelled downward, I stopped breathing all together, his delectable yet deadly hands splayed across his ass, palming both cheeks harshly, his nails dug into fabric before slowly slicing it through. Rough, I always knew he would be rough.

He tore the leggings from him as if it were offensive to him, and I nodded my head dumbly, yes they were offensive, terribly offensive, they must perish in the fire, damnation for eternity they shall suffer. A wayward finger dipped in between the full muscle of his cheeks, and with utmost attention I watched the play of miniscule shadows curve around the digit, drooled like a man deprived as that god awful digit trailed upwards – oh how I wanted to replace that finger with my tongue, I wonder how his musk would taste – his rocking motions made my own hips move to mimic without my brain's consent, he chuckled darkly under his breath at my murmured cuss.

He tilted his head to the side, giving me a beautiful side profile, touching the dark parts of my soul with his wicked smile, his fangs gleamed of ill intent, he tongued the sharp incisors, that redden appendage stroked slowly up and down, mimicking the side of tongue on cock – I wish I had one of those; dick envy, oh how I suffered from dick envy – A quirk of his finger gained my awareness, he gave me a glorious view, bending his body nearly in two, his hands sliding down to hold his ankles, his wicked eyes sparkled between his knees, and bared to me, only me, only I saw that tight ring of muscle and nerves, pink and needy, needy for something I could not give him. I whined, whined like a newborn begging for mothers milk – just a taste – his fingers danced across the skin of his legs, brushing over the back of his knees, into his thighs, up to the hanging appendages on his center, pulled and tugged gently, emphasizing the fact he was not neglected these special parts of a male. The head of his cock bobbed against the tightness of his stomach, trapped between air and solid muscle, my gut wrenched, knowing full well I'll never know the feeling of such a wonderful thing.

His smirk grew into a full devilish smile, in this perpetual darkness it glowed, that smile buckled my knees sending me to the floor, kneeling before him, hands spread out - a beggar to a saint; let me touch please – once again he repeated the action; it must be a oral fetish – his finger dipped into his mouth, toyed with a fang until cut. I watched, burning it into vivid detail as the blood bubbled and trailed down to his knuckle, groaned when said bloodied finger travelled against his alabaster skin - creating a striking contrast of color – and stopped at its destination. "Tell me Angel, do you like what you see?"

My body shuddered as he finally cut the silence, my mouth moved yet my tongue remained stationary, fat and swollen, excited and consumed with need. He truly didn't care for an answer, my laboured breathing was all the evidence he needed to know **exactly** what he was doing to me. It was all just pretence to mock me, that cruel sadistic bastard, he knew just killing me would not accomplish true torment on my being, to see, witness my object of desire only to not truly have is the greatest way to my utter destruction, kill my soul, my will, and leave me shamed before my death. His breath hitched and I gasped, the finger no longer playing against the bundle of nerves, now it was swallowed to the knuckle, the ring fit sweetly and snug around the digit – is it hot, warm, cold, is it as divine as I imagined over the centuries?- His body jerked, and shimmied, and my mind became a mass of putty.

He held great years of experience by the way his digit found that particular gland in his body in one push of penetration and the idea of it alone made my body burn and my mind to question; how many times has he finger fucked himself? He worked his finger like the pro he was, moving it in, sliding it out, only to push it in hard and quick pressing the digit down on his gland, in, down, out, in, down, out, over and over. His breathy groans shot up my spine, tickling my brain, not once did he close his eyes, glazed and open, his lips quirked into a joyous smirk, loving each movement, getting off on the fact of pain and pleasure, my pain, his pleasure. I suppose it's a duo gratification on his part, fingering himself and seeing my pain.

His other hand finally decided to join in on the fun, taking a strong hold of his heavy cock, thumb and index fingers wrapped tightly under the mushroom head. Oh yes, he liked the rough play if how he beat his cock was any clue. He jerked it up and down in a tight hold choking his cock, making the tip turn purplish and blue, rubbing it raw and fast in his palm. I couldn't help but to smack my lips several times, couldn't stop myself from running my hands over the voided area, feeling nothing but tight skin, imagining I was stroking a cock in wide sweeps. "Yeah, that's right Angel… fee-eel yourself, touch yourself for me. Imagine you fucking this tight asshole…" – Oh father in heaven forgive me – I did, I pictured it too easily, with his guidance and filthy voice. "I've never had anything more than my finger in there Angel, so, you know… I'm very tight, and so hot." His breathing escalated and I knew I was to be witness to this monster's orgasm, and I couldn't ask for anything more than that; let me die a happy man.

I gasped as he thrusted in an extra finger, nearly making him wail, his body shook with uncontrolled tremors, thrusting them in and out with a fever pitch that left me dizzy - he was so wanton like that, he looked celestial – his movements became more erratic, more forceful, is he was mortal no doubt he would leave bruises and a few tares. His chest heaved his eyes slid shut, a wonderful hue of pink coloured the bride of his nose spanning his high cheekbones; he was gorgeous.

Time stopped for him, the world halted its turning on the axes, as this godly creature paused, locked his muscles, and spilled the white creamy substance of his body, keeping the death grip under the head only allowing the thick cum to slowly drip from the slit of his cock down to the nonexistent floor beneath him. Before I knew it, I was crawling my way to the shimmering puddle, dipping my head between his spread legs, my tongue arched out to taste, electricity engulfed me out of pure adrenaline and excitement alone, the tip of my tongue just a centimetre away. Strong fingers tangled into my hair, whipping my head back in a excruciating arch – If I were a mere mortal, no doubt it would sever my head from my shoulders from the sheer force he used- I wailed and nearly screamed, pleading for the taste, and all I was greeted by was his sinister laugh laced with his darkly laced voice. "Tell me how much you want it Angel…" My eyes clashed against his, mischief played in the ebony.

I answered him; I spoke so quietly, so brokenly to him. "A taste… please… let me taste."

A woof of malevolence laughter was my answer, his fingers released my hair, giving me all the permission I needed, and like a dog I lapped the essence of evil. Curled my tongue around and in the puddle of bitter cum, one of the best thing I have ever tasted because it was him I was sampling, the sharp musk and saltiness was purely him and he watched from his bent angle, as I nosily licked him all up from the floor. I whine as the substance and taste was gone, all of it settled in my belly, tilting my head up, I stared at his cock, eyeing the gleam still present on the tip. With care I moved up, locked on the shine of cum, smacking my lips, my tongue stretched to taste.

He denied me, in a painful way, snapping his teeth harshly against my sensitive tongue, growling like a beast, his eyes burning with the trimming of crimson. I yelped like the dog I was scampering away from its master, my hand clamped over my lips, keeping those sharp weapons away.

With the ease of a dancer he straightened, turning onto me with wrathful eyes his lips set grimly, and I knew it was time for me to die. A millisecond, a flash, and he was smiling sweetly at me; which terrified me all the more. He moved in on me like a panther on wounded prey, gliding, ethereal in his movements. He stopped above me, his feet planted on each side of my waist, dropping down, gracing me with the full weight of his upper body, reaching out to cup my face, making me flinch unsure of his next move. He leaned forward and licked my middle finger placing a kiss on my knuckle, silently asking me to move my hand from my lips and I obeyed like a good pet. He gave me a gentle kiss, easing my discomfort. "Angel," He all but purred "you can't touch me with those… clean hands of yours." Reaching out behind me, he fingered my wings, the blood staining the white feathers. "But you can, only if…" He trailed off, tilting his head away from me, staring off into the distance leaving me to figure things out on my own, but, it was no good to do such a thing, leaving me to come to my own conclusions after the show I just witness… my brain wasn't really *up* to thinking.

"If I what?" It came out far more eager than I wanted it to, but once again, my brain has taken a full on vacation to places unknown.

His head snapped back, and his lips stretched over his teeth in an ominous smile. He leaned in closer, his breath on my lips, his fingers still trailing my wings fluffing the feathers to attention. His eyes trailed behind me, taking in the wings of an avenger of God. "Forsake them…" he whispered, the sweet breath against my lips, hot and full of meaning. "Forsake your father" His eyes slipped to my own, half lidded, and a moan escapes his lips – I wanted to make him moan, and so much more for me. "accept me as your Master, your owner, the one you pray to, the one you unsheathed your fiery sword for and kill as I demand."

My breath shuddered, and my body shook, forsake my father, and forsake all I knew… "Yessssss." The word trailed from my mouth in a whispering hiss far before I truly thought of the consequence of my actions, before my brain could kick in and tell me the significance of what I was agreeing to. I just wanted it so badly.

His laughter turned into a devastating cackle, the fingers gripped the joints of my wings and pulled with great power, yanking them out, removing the evidence of what I am…was. He stood above me, a foot on my chest pushing me back against the spurting blood behind me, slicking my back with my own blood. I writhe under him, whimpering in my agony, sucking back the tears that threaten to fall – I would not show weakness any longer to him-

He licked at the blood dripping from his fingers, nearly becoming intoxicated with my tinted blood. He spoke to me, lowly, I had to strain to hear him, ignore the burning sharp pain behind me. "You will remain here Angel, to die an Angel's death and the purity will drain from your body. The darkness that surrounds you will seep into your soul, corrupting you, turning you, welcoming you into the abyss, my home. I own you, you belong to me to do whatever I see fit. You understand Angel?"

I nodded my head weakly, and he stepped away. "You'll remain here, in the blackness for five hundred years alone. Then I'll come for you, be prepared Angel because there is so much for us to do." He moved away from me then, ignoring my pleas, brushing off my screams. I will go mad here, on my own, never to see light again or hear another's voice; but I suppose that was the point, an Angel's death.

The last thing I saw or heard was his chuckle and form moving away, the thin sheen of light that graced us faded away with him, leaving me in the nothingness of this place, and all I could think was that he never asked me my name, would I even remember the name Goku once he returns… I wonder what my name will be once he returned to gather me…

_Kakarot… _

**This was so damn tricky, and gave me a damn hard time to, honestly I cannot count how many times I deleted paragraphs because I didn't like how it sounded, and rewrite, an delete an rewrite. Well I should say retype. No full on anal sex here, couldn't do that, if you're well versed in Angels then you know they have no reproductive organs thus why they do not lust for mortals, however Goku does lol or this fic would have never existed. I hope you all enjoyed the fic and wasn't offended, and if you were, then why the fuck are you reading my work!? You should know better haha and I'm not sorry! **

**Reviews Adult Fan-fiction**

**Animeslave18- **Awe I misses you too! I'm sorry I made you worry I hope the wait for the second instalment wasn't too bad, I know it's way over the time… but I hope it was worth the wait all the same. Halloween is my fav holiday so I had to do something for it, and doing something that is morally wrong on soo many levels tickled me pink hahaha. Xoxoxox take care

**Fanfiction**

**TFSrules**- Thank you very much for the review, I am glad you liked it XD Enjoy the read ;)

**Aki1iniriki**- Thank you, I am glad you like it, and happy to know my writing style is kinda unique, and I hope you like the new chapter ;) Muah!

**Cara2012-** Oh my Cara you're making my cheeks hot and my ego soar! *Hugs* thank you so much for all your love and support with such kind words! MUAH


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